To Be a Leader
by MiraClarinet
Summary: One-shot. My thoughts about the first day of bandcamp for this previous season, my first time being section leader. My doubts, fears, and why.


This was it.

Tomorrow was the first day of band camp. Goodbye summer, hello marching season. And at this point, 8 o' clock at night the Sunday before, my nerves were tingling.

It wasn't band camp I was nervous about. Only freshman were worried about petty things like band camp, and I was a junior; finally an upperclassman. It was this band camp I was worried about.

It sounds strange. I know. What makes this band camp so different?

_A lot._

First off, this was my first year as clarinet section leader. I had finally reached the top of my section, and after a long and nerve-racking audition process, gotten the spot that I was hoping for, knowing full well that I had been cut after conducting auditions of drum major try-outs. The fact I had made section leader made everything better, although it had been an entire season since I had observed a decent section leader. The one the previous year was…mediocre at best. Don't get me wrong, I looked up to her like looked up to all the senior class of that year. But, she lacked many of the leadership qualities one needs to be an effective section leader. Which left me with a balloon-headed sophomore section and two suckish marching rookies who had been in only concert band the year before.

To add to my already-pulsing nerve-muscles, our beloved director had announced sometime earlier in the summer that he would not be returning this year. He was moving 2 hours away, to Phoenix. His goodbye brought tears to even the strongest adults in the room. The director, having brought our band from a lucky-to-get-a-good group of 35 "musicians" to a excellent-is-bad group of around 70 skilled artists in only 7 years, was loved by every student and every teacher in the school, even the druggies who thought smoking in the bathroom outside the band room was a good idea(which he made sure to change their minds about). Our band had been the best it was in 20 years. At the end of the season, we had thought all we could go was up. With his announcement, our hopes dwindled to just surviving the season.

Thinking about it caused fear and nerves to bubble from the deepest pits of my stomach all the way up to my throat.

_Dear band gods, _I thought, closing my eyes and leaning against the empty white wall of my fairly new house, _don't let me be sick tomorrow. _

I couldn't let them down. No matter how many freshman or rookies the clarinets had, I just had to show them I had it in me. I had to live up to May's expectations.

_Be a leader._

His last words to me echoed over and over in my head. When I ha hugged him goodbye after his announcement, like the other half of the band that had showed up that day, he had whispered those words into my ear. Everyday since, they had haunted me to no end.

I don't know how much May expected from me. It seemed like he switched his opinions on me every time I tried something new. Freshman year, I think his thoughts on me were along the lines of "she won't last a band camp." Yes, fat girl in marching band. Yes, I would be happy to survive the week, let alone the season. Although, throughout the season those thoughts changed only mildly, while I was at least semi-determined to show them all up. I worked hard, but I was always the worst marcher, and my confidence was constantly on holiday.

Then, concert season came around. This was _my _season. Even though I was rarely first chair in middle school, having a worst enemy in my section who the director constantly sided with, I was still the best in the section. High school band gave me a new challenge; Beat the single senior in the lower band, as well as the other two freshman. The freshman were the easiest. One had played alto sax during marching season, but she was and always has been my greatest competition. The other was hardly a threat. The senior, however, was in both bands, and pretty skilled herself. It was usually both of us on first, but any possible solo was automatically hers, and if only one was on first, it was her. The two of us made a great team however.

My confidence came back during this time. The Christmas concert gave me a new idea; audition for regionals. If I made it in, I could show even the higher band clarinets what I was really worth. I worked harder at that audition then I ever had, but still managed to pass up the third etude. When audition time came around, things got horrible. Problems arose as I was just putting my clarinet together. I dropped my mouthpiece on the hard tile floor, shattering the left part of the tip to a point of no return. I couldn't get even a squeak out, and my heart sunk. I didn't usually get nervous, but this, this was pure nerve-torture. I was nearly in tears as I searched for my director. I finally found him, and told him what had happened. He didn't have a spare, and neither did I. However, eh suggested I go talk to the woman in charge of calling the clarinets in. Lucky me, she was my section leader's mom, and a math teacher at my school. After a chain of calls and texts, a senior came early and let me borrow hers. It didn't quite fit right, and I squeaked a lot, but it played. I went into audition like that, squeaky, non-fitting mouthpiece. By some miracle, I, although quite apologetically, managed the spot of second chair third part in the regional band, above the senior whose mouthpiece I had borrowed, and above the junior who would be the following year's clarinet section leader.

My confidence restored completely(and a new mouthpiece to boot), I decided to audition for section leader. I worked even harder for this then I had for regionals. During outdoor auditions, I flubbed minorly on commands, and knew I could have done better, but so had the other girl auditioning. Music auditions went great however. Even my competition agreed that if she won, it would be by seniority, since we were pretty evenly matched. And she won.

But by this point, I had showed May what I could do. I had proven to him what I could be. After a second try at regionals, I went up a full part, making second chair for second part, above all others in my section, including the section leader, who I beat by 8 chairs. Allowing my confidence and nerves to party, I decided to try for all state.

May's reaction confused me.

I told him I wished to audition, and he gave me a weird look that told me "are you sure?" Did he not believe I could do it? Well, bye confidence. It took yet another holiday. I think it was beginning to enjoy Cancun.

The audition was worse then freshman year regionals. I flubbed everything. Every etude sounded like mush, and one of my scales was a completely different key. My chromatic lowered almost an entire octave from regionals. I came out quite depressed. And later, my score sheet said it all. "Blow harder." "Blow." "More air." I got 851. Out of 2000.

Nobody from my school made it.

That year, I decided to actually go for drum major, having noted during marching season that the other sophomore, the suckish boy having quit early in the season, was really top candidate. Every liked her more, everyone trusted her more. I was a flute amid trumpets. The odd one out.

But after a crappy conducting audition to follow my excelling playing audition, I was cut for drum major and given section leader.

And here was where I stood now.

Sitting in my empty room, my clarinet taunting me in its brand new baby blue case. Even after an entire summer of practicing our show, a medley of the band Chicago's hits, I was still missing rhythms, I was still not ready to teach others how to play it.

Yet above all, it was those three words that rose above it all, filled me with the most fears. _Be a leader._

I wasn't afraid of the clarinets. I wasn't afraid of letting people down. I was afraid of fear. I remembered what fear could, and had done to me. A broken mouthpiece from a shaky hand freshman year. A horrible section leader over me my sophomore year. A failed all state audition that same year. Would I fail as a section leader as well? All because of fear?

The next morning, I prepared for a long, hot day. I got my clarinet, checked off hat, sunglasses, lunch, music. Grabbed my half-frozen water bottle.

Part one of band camp; freshman days.

I looked around the band room as we waited, choir director sitting in(how dare she) May's old stool. Like she was him. Looking over scores that should have been in his hands.

I looked for the freshman. I could only count 5. The rest were student staff, or returners who didn't have to be there, who were only there for a refresher course or to help out.

We began as the clock struck 8:30 am. It was half an hour after it should have started. Nobody else was coming. The choir director called off names from a list of potential freshman. I was right. 5 had showed up. Many more had not. 20 in fact. Ouch.

We continued to name off student staff, all of us in a line to say our name, section, position, and something about us. All I could say was that I had a blue clarinet case(which, odd enough, wasn't the weirdest or randomest thing said that moment). The freshman and rookies were then asked to gather around their section leaders. I called the clarinets over. Two returners. One rookie. No freshman. Looking great. I think even they noted my sarcasm when I looked at our wonderful freshman section of a rookie. At least this made my job easier. Supposedly.

On the first full day, as I looked into the eyes of my section, I could see the entire season flash before my eyes. I couldn't help but smile. Yes, they were mediocre. Yes, they were small. But the determination in their eyes brought pride to my heart.

This was my section. Good or bad, I still loved them. Whether they loved me or not.

May's last words echoed once more in my mind.

_Be a leader._

It was my duty to him, and all memories this band had of him, to be the leader I wanted to be. If he believed in me, I could do it. He was, and always will be my director. Whoever takes his place, if anyone ever does, he will still be my director. He made me the player I am today. If it wasn't for his belief, or his disbelief, in what I could do, I wouldn't have worked as hard as I did to make it to the top of my section.


End file.
